The manager swallowed.
“Of course.”
As Ryan and Ashley disappeared into the elevator, the manager immediately picked up a phone.
“Ms. Reynolds,” he said quietly. “He’s here.”
Upstairs in the executive offices, I was sitting across from my attorney, Victoria Reynolds.
Three thick folders sat between us.
Alongside a tablet.
And dozens of certified financial documents.
“He checked in with Ashley Parker,” Victoria said. “Presidential Suite. Dinner reservation tomorrow at eight.”
I closed my eyes.
Just for a second.
